The Little Black Boy

The Little Black Boy - Is but a cloud and like a shady...

Info iconThis preview shows page 1. Sign up to view the full content.

View Full Document Right Arrow Icon
My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but oh! my soul is white. White as an angel is the English child, But I am black as if bereaved of light. My mother taught me underneath a tree, And, sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap and kissed me, And pointing to the east began to say: "Look on the rising sun, - there God does live And gives his light, and gives his heat away; And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday. And we are put on earth a little space That we may learn to bear the beams of love; And these black bodies and this sunburnt face
Background image of page 1
This is the end of the preview. Sign up to access the rest of the document.

Unformatted text preview: Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove. For when our souls have learned the heat to bear The cloud will vanish, we shall hear his voice Saying: 'Come out from the grove, my love and care, And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice!' " Thus did my mother say, and kissed me; And thus I say to little English boy: When I from black and he from white cloud free, And round the tent of God like lambs we joy, I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear To lean in joy upon our father's knee; And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair, And be like him, and he will then love me....
View Full Document

{[ snackBarMessage ]}

Ask a homework question - tutors are online